


Somewhere Over the Rainbow

by LittleSixx (orphan_account)



Category: Black Veil Brides
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Gen, Song Lyrics, Songfic, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 03:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5273981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/LittleSixx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andy Black's life told through colour</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere Over the Rainbow

**Author's Note:**

> Character study of Andy BLACK--not Andy Biersack. Basically a manipulated canon of Andy's life to fit the character.

I

Andy Black’s baby blanket was red. His birthplace of Cincinnati is a red city. Contrarily, even as a baby, he had the palest face. His red blanket and December birthday caused many relatives to dub him “the little candy cane,” much to the chagrin of his parents.

The sun turns a unique shade of candy apple when it hits the horizon of Cincinnati, a perfect complement to the bad blood between East & West. A city so red they gave it a stadium. Andy’s mother whispered to him sometimes as a baby, that she knew he was destined for greatness but

_“Dreams don’t grow from here._ ”

 

II.

On his second birthday, Andy received a toy piano. It was bright orange and only had four keys, but he looked at it with a reverence most two-year-olds reserved for cookies. Then, Andy would never be like “most of” anyone. He carted the music maker everywhere he went around the house, even giving it a seat at the dinner table.

The first thing Andy’s dad taught him to play was the opening of “Smoke on the Water.” He said, “Here, little Liberace, you only need four notes.” So Andy learned quarter quarter half / quarter quarter rest eighth quarter / quarter quarter half / quarter quarter go crazy!! He’d scrunch his face in concentration when he made a mistake and start over. He made lots of mistakes. So many, by the time he was three his parents would be happy to never hear Deep Purple again.

_“Singing all my songs to bedroom mirrors.”_

 

III.

In middle school, if Andy wore yellow he’d get in a fight. It never failed. The first time someone punched him, Andy wasn’t stunned. He’d been fighting verbal insults for years. Blood leaked from his mouth, staining his yellow shirt. He spat, pulled his fist back, and hit the guy in the jaw. “I can’t believe the ___ punched me!” The guy said. “What, I knock loose a baby tooth?” Andy replied.

Andy painted his fingernails yellow, then tackled a guy who called him “little miss sunshine.” He wore a t-shirt with the yellow-rimmed Batman logo, which prompted a heated debate on Bruce Wayne v. Tony Stark that ended with someone’s foot on his throat. Eventually, he decided yellow was a colour best left to Ronald McDonald.

_“What made me tough almost killed me.”_

 

IV.

Andy’s first car was a piece of shit. “Gets me to school, gets me wherever I’m ditching school, gets me home.” Every bit the flippant rebel. It was a green somewhere on the spectrum between I-hate-my-life blue and dull gray, landing somewhere around “blah.” He’d never let anyone know he appreciated it, but there was never a dent on “that motherfucker.”

He’d stand against the hood outside Dunkin’ Donuts while smoking a cigarette, tying just a little too hard to be James Dean. He lost his virginity, uncomfortably, in the backseat. Once, he drove all the way upstate to Michigan to taste freedom, far, far away from the Ohio Valley.

“ _This hell on Earth … I just want to run away_.”

V.

When Andy got on the plane to Los Angeles, he was too exhausted to notice anything other than the blue carpet. Shitty places always had blue carpet. He was too tired, tired of arguing with his mom about dropping out of high school and tired of arguing with his dad about the move. Such audacity isn’t grown in kids from Cincy. But Andy wouldn’t walk down that well-travelled road because it didn’t lead to anything worthwhile.

The first place he crashed with a “bandmate” had blue carpet. The first place in Hollywood he shared with bandmates was even shiftier. The kitchen acted as “booze storage” and “trash can.” Cockroaches climbed up and down the walls. Andy took to throwing popcorn at them and guessing which way they’d crawl. The carpet was blue once, but had been stained so many times it appeared brown. Andy sighed, “Soon,” before softly singing  _"_ Somewhere Over the Rainbow" to himself. _  
_

_“We do it our own way …”_

 

VI. 

The couch in the recording studio was purple. It wasn’t the down-trodden jingle studio he did 2 A.M. recording sessions in. It was an opportunity. His manager and his girl sat on the couch, waiting for the process to begin. Weirdly, not showing support, just sort of being there in stasis. All he could see was purple and what it signified. Royalty, moving up on the food chain. A bright elegance Andy was prepared to take on.

He pulled the headphones over his ears and glanced around. There was a replica platinum “Purple Rain” record on the wall. Andy smiled as the music began, and he sang. He put all the longing, hope, and pain he’d withheld into the lyrics; like it was oozing from every cell in his body.

Then he felt it—actual freedom.

_“Don’t give up, don’t be forgotten.”_

 

VII. 

The music video came as a surprise. The label had enough faith to give him a real director. There were conversations about theme and vision. All Andy wanted was to show everyone back home he could do it. He hadn’t needed to be good enough for choir in school because he knew he was good enough for this. All that mattered was that he had something to say. He wanted to make his parents proud. As for everyone else? Andy laughed,

_“They don’t need to understand.”_


End file.
